


Ghosts of Our Pasts

by DominusFero



Series: Ghosts of Our Pasts [1]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Apologies, Compliant up to Dial M for Jasper, David takes antidepressants, Depression, Forgiveness, Guilt, Hatred, Hospitalization, Jasper survived both the bears and the explosion, M/M, Resentment, Slow Burn Jasper/David (Camp Camp), Starting Over, Still kinda canon compliant, Suicide Attempt, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 13:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominusFero/pseuds/DominusFero
Summary: Filling in all the gaps in both their stories: What happened when Jasper recovered from the bear attack? How close were the boys really? Why were they so mad at one another when their interests caused a split? What if Jasper had survived the explosion and all the aftermath that followed. How would David have handled it?





	Ghosts of Our Pasts

For an entire summer's season, the monotony of a daily routine never once seemed to harbor any glimmer of change. For fourteen years it had remained this way for a certain plucky redheaded male who spent his days instructing the eager young minds of the youth. Or more honestly, he tries to. The manner in which he lives his summer life is quite odd as it is rather abstract as compared to the societal norm. The camp counselor lays awake at night practically vibrating with a perpetual happiness that never seemed to fade, a smile that never dampens plastered permanently across his face. Come the early hours of the morning, he springs out of bed with an Olympian leap to dash to the bathroom to shower and dress only to be beaten down by the trials of the day. Over those fourteen years, those trials shifted from the lunacy enacted by children around him to brutal attacks upon his person at the hands of demons disguised as children. Yet with the aid of medicinal drugs in the shape of tiny white ovular pills that tasted like chalk, the counselor was able to rise above adversity and continue on living and loving each and every day. By sunset he was willing to begin the entire cycle over again the next day, laying perfectly still upon his cot with his glittering green eyes trained upon the wooden logs of the ceiling thinking of what he would do come morning.

But those little white ovals were not always a part of the counselor's routine. No, no those began making an appearance following a situation far back in his youth. Days, weeks and even months passed in regards to the 'incident' yet the nightmares still lingered. As an adult the overwhelming guilt ate him alive, thrusting him into a constant state of agonizing fear that he could only be pulled from whenever he devoured one of those nasty white ovals. His sanity was spared though it would never be whole again. Neither would his undying happiness, which with every passing year seemed to fade quicker and quicker with time.

In the time period known as 'the off-season', else known to most as 'the remainder of the year', the poor counselor never could maintain the same level of enthusiasm as he could whenever he worked at his beloved campgrounds. He tried his best to find work that fulfilled him with the same amount of passion his camp did but it was all in vain. Nothing could compare to the joy he felt in the presence of Camp Campbell. Nevertheless, he wore a brave face, his smile never fading despite the colder weather freezing the fire inside his soul. At least, it never faded until this day.

The morning carried out as it should, quiet and slow with little interaction. Such is the life of a florist during the dreary dregs of January. However, what was to be a trivial day soon turned into one that delved deep into a forbidden past, one the counselor/florist wished he could forget.

A ghost from his past had come to haunt him and the sight forced through tainted memories. The pot the redhead had been holding slipped through his grasp, now lax as his hands froze in terror. The sound of clay shattering upon tile caught the attention of the item of his distress, the only other human amid a vicinity chock full of vegetation. A man whom the other had long thought was lost to time stood only feet away. He looked so rugged yet clean, light darkish blond stubble dusting his face, a perfect match to the fluffy plume of luscious sandy blond hair upon his head. In those brief milliseconds between the echo of the shrill sound of broken pottery to when the two men met eyes, there was a tension unparalleled to anything either had felt before. The blond's pale blue eyes had seemed so lively when he had been nose deep in the heavenly aroma of Angel's Trumpets, but upon noting the redhead, the blue had faded to a pale grey as dead as a colorless wilted bloom.

A scowl etched its way across the other's sullen features, a fire alight within his tortured soul.

** "David."**

He spoke with a venom, a venom justified by actions of the past that had utterly destroyed his ability to feel. The redhead swallowed nervously, lifting a hand in offerings to the other.

"Jasper, I-" but he was met with a cold glare of steel, inviting him to choose his words wisely else he be subject to a more powerful poison. "I-I...I'm sorry..."

"You should be." Came the firm response. David winced following those words, wanting to spring forth with a torrent of apologies but he fell short on ways in which to convey his emotions. He could only stare at his own feet, trapped between his own self-loathing and insecurities. The hatred in Jasper's face worsened at the sound of silence, cementing his detest of the redhead even further. Taking the absence of sound as a means to leave, the sandy blond stormed out of the shop in a huff, leaving David to wallow in the misery of his own folly.

Like the forlorn remains of broken clay, his life too was in pieces. A friendship once alive and thriving was now withering away and dying from the results of actions not too smartly handled. David went to bed that night with a heavy mind and guilty conscience, his empty stomach grumbling in disagreement with his choice to forgo a meal. He lay awake with his eyes trained on the ceiling above, his mind too busy to allow him to rest. The sorrow that drenched him in a waterfall of regret threw him downstream into a lagoon of swirling memories. These revisions of the past had remained locked up in his inner mind for fourteen years but the walls had crumbled from a timeless anxiety that mercilessly pounding against the barriers, letting the floodwaters rush into the once calm river of a tranquil steady mind.

The memory of a cold evening in which darkness crept in and swallowed all that lay around in its infinite maw brought David back to a world he used to know. It had taken him ages to grow accustomed to the inevitability that night would fall though his ability to cope was hardly even established. Even now as an adult he still found himself trembling in his bed at the pervasive thoughts that danger lurked all around in the unguarded night. Unlike some fears, this phobia was rationalized through the after-effects of one tragedy that haunted both the redhead and sandy blond. When the two were children they were tent-mates at a summer camp. Through misadventure and at the hands of their incompetent leader, Jasper had suffered the worst of that fateful evening as he was viciously attacked by a large grizzly bear before being dragged back to its dwelling. In a show of good faith, David forced his hand, making an effort to rescue his friend but the results of that effort, while ending in positivity, were shrouded in darkness. Not wanting to be separated even for a moment, the two boys were allowed to stay with one another in the hospital as Jasper underwent treatment for his injuries. During the first night in that dreary hospital room was when the two boys' phobia came to fruition, their terrified screams echoing down the laminate halls. Shivering and sobbing the two could only find solace in one another, clutching each other as if the other were the only tether to the real world. Even when the boys were released back to camp, neither Jasper nor David could stand to sleep alone. Their summer nights were now spent sharing a tight embrace under threadbare woolen blankets that itched like the dickens but the pain of rug burn was worth the now enjoyable sleep. The closeness the two shared brought forth feelings neither boy understood at that time but feelings neither could ignore. For little boys, being flowy and expressive is never quite questioned. So, when David let a tiny confession slip through his little lips, Jasper did not even bat an eye. But what of it now?

The redhead sobbed in his sleep as the torrential memories rained down upon him, surfacing buried memories. One stupid, selfish decision as a child had cost him a future he would have treasured forever. Knowing how much Jasper resented him, the pain of having done the sandy blond wrong jabbed the redhead in his heart. Over and over he felt the symbolic stabs tear his organ to shreds leaving nothing but a bloody red mess behind. He wept bitterly, falling deeper and deeper into a hole he would certainly never climb out of. Those tiny white chalk ovals did so little for him now, their power long gone as he had elected to withhold his second dose from himself. The cold icy grip of a dead blue hand dug its thick powerful nails into his mind, dulling his eyes so that there no longer was a spark of joy within them. His breath slowed to a point where it would have been near impossible to tell if he was even living based on hearing. Unmoving, his body limp as he laid motionless under the covers. David was alive but dead inside. He would not get up again.

Days fell into weeks which turned over into months. Too tired to move, too sad to eat, hardly even bothered to bathe the redhead laid in his bed staring at the wall until the effects of sleep were too much for him to fend off. The call to leave behind his sorrows was growing stronger and stronger each day. David had so little left to care for. His job had terminated him after one too many days without showing. He was soon-to-be evicted from his apartment after not having paid his rent in over three months. No one called, no one dared question anything. To David, it was all he needed to see that he was alone in this world and if he left it, no one would bat an eye. He wanted to live to see another summer but by God, he could not find it in him to try. So, after finding what little energy remained in his body, David plucked his phone from the nightstand where it lay cold and dead. He stared at the cellular for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not it was fruitless to even attempt what he was thinking. Putting doubts aside, he set it atop the wireless circular charger, waiting until he had at least enough battery to power the device. Leaving it charging, he searched the White Pages until he found the number he was searching for.

_"Heya Jasp...I know this is weird, me having your number and all, especially since you're hearing me when I know you don't want to but...I really need to let you know. I'm tired. Tired of trying to forget the past when all it does is come back to remind me of my mistakes. I'm tired of living in a world without hope. I-I'm sorry for letting you think I didn't care. I wanted to let you know I never stopped caring. I could never stop caring about you. You were all I could think of. All I _**_have_**_ thought of. When I saw you...all that time ago in the shop, there was so much I wanted to say but I couldn't. I didn't know how to. I wanted to kiss you, hug, apologize...but I knew...I knew you wouldn't let me. And for when you thought I didn't care as a kid; I need to tell you I did care. For all those ages you spent in the hospital following the cave explosion, unconscious, cold, alone, I was there. I held your hand, I cried for you when I saw the burns. I wanted to hold you close and never let you go but I knew better than to hurt you further. I whispered to you how much of an idiot I was for letting Cameron use me. I **hate** him. I hate that I followed him, he was, **is** a horrible person. I hate him, I hate how he took you from me with his lies. You were right...gosh darn-it I should have seen it sooner, maybe you would still be with me if I had. I was blind, blind to a life I never thought I would get to enjoy if I didn't follow it. But you were all I needed. All those nights we spent together, the kiss under the sycamore, you were all I needed. But I didn't give you what you needed. A friend who listens, a friend who never once acts on impulse without considering consequence. I was a horrible friend and an even worse boyfriend, if you could even call me that. I wanted so much but I never gave. I failed you and...I’m sorry. I'm so tired...so done with living this lie...before I go, I need to tell you: I've always loved you."_

He knew Jasper would never respond. This was a long-shot in and of itself but at least he could provide himself with enough closure to move on. He called his mother, apologized for any wrong he may have done and wished her well, telling her he loved her dearly. He phoned his co-counselor Gwen, who rarely on occasion seemed to be doing anything other than watching television. She received his call and despite her protests following his long monotone goodbye, David hung up. He felt so much lighter yet still so heavy and so, so tired.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A world of white was what the redhead awoke to, of which his mind immediately placed him in heaven. But this world of white was cold and smelled of bleach, not in any way heaven but something far worse than being dead. He remembered not of how he came to be there but only that he was. Try as he might, he could not remember the manner in which he tried to escape this pitiful life. Dreading return, David remained impartial, annoyed at how he was still living. Studying the room in which he lay, nothing seemed out of the norm for a plain hospital room. An IV dripped down into his wrist but the itch of more than the tape on his hand bothered him. He felt cloth and tape beneath his chin when he swallowed. Swallowing, as he found, was a chore to do. Had he tried to slit his own throat? It seemed fairly violent for someone as passive as himself. The rustling of the bandages roused a second body in the room, one crumpled in the hard-plastic body of a waiting chair. It was not a face David had been expecting to see.

"Fucking hell...you stupid **bastard**..." the gravelly voice of someone just woken swore at the bedridden fool. He reached for his hair with his right hand. This caught David's attention. The hand was black like leather but shimmered with a metallic sheen. A prosthetic. He had never seen that when he was with Jasper following his second ordeal. "How could you just do that to me?!" Jasper demanded of the redhead, those tired eyes now quickly filling with tears. "H-how," his anger broke into a trembling sob, "h-how could you...how could you just dump all th-that on me...and th-then try to die!?"

David went to speak. God, he wanted to speak, but he could not. He physically could not.

"God, David, I-" Jasper choked on his own sobs, caught in the moment. "I really thought...I knew but...shit, this is all my fault."

David's eyes widened. Jasper's fault? In what way? How? He reached for a hand, either his living flesh or his plastic/metal limb, he just wanted something to hold. Jasper looked to him with tears running down his cheeks, a sad shell of a man who had done his friend wrong.

"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to be mad, I didn't want to listen or even think-! For fourteen years, I let you think-if I had just stayed in the store, let you explain, hell, if I had just let you stay in the hospital when I woke up-" David stopped him with a finger to his lips. Telepathically he seemed to share the message: _It's okay, shush and calm down. I forgive you._

Jasper held David as tightly as he could without restricting the IV, mumbling apologies into his hair as he cradled the smaller male in his arms. For hours the two did not part, not even through other visitations. Nothing would be entirely forgiven but an understanding could be reached and perhaps their love could be rekindled and the relationship started anew. And while the ghosts of their pasts had haunted them for years, now those angry spirits could finally be put to rest.


End file.
